(My friend and I have just got on the train and sat down when an entire primary school class fills up our carriage, some of them sitting in the empty seats next to us.)

Friend: “I’m gonna ask them about stuff we used to like when we were their age and see what’s still relevant.”

Me: “Yeah, cool.”

Friend: “Hey, what kind of TV shows and stuff do you guys watch? Have you heard of things like Rugrats?”

Kids: *shaking heads, confused stares*

Friend: “Uh… That’s So Raven?”

Kids: “What?”

Me: “Pokémon?”

Kids: “Pokémon? That’s for little kids!”

Friend: “You really think so?”

Kids: “Yeah, it’s for babies.”

Friend: “We play Pokémon.”

Kids: “You play baby games then.”

Me: “How old are you?”

(The kids state ages between 7-10.)

Me: “[Friend], how old are you?”

Friend: “16.”

Me: “I’m 16, too. Do you play Pokémon?”

Friend: “Yes, I do play Pokémon.”

Me: “I also play Pokémon. Do you guys play Pokémon?”

Kids: “No!”

Me: “So by that information, it looks like not playing Pokémon is for little kids.”

Friend: “Can’t argue with that logic.”

One Kid: “Yeah, well… you’re a doinky face!”

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(I work in a train station ticket office which has two main entrances: one directly from the platform and one from the street. There is no pavement outside the street entrance and the door opens straight onto the bus stop. The pavement is a good 20 feet away in any given direction.)

Customer: *walks in through street entrance* “Hiya. Where’s the bus stop?”

Me: “You actually walked over it. It’s just outside the doors there.”

Customer: *heads for platform doors*

Me: “Sir, stop! I meant the street doors. You know, the ones you entered through?”

(The customer stops, pauses, looks at me, looks at street doors, looks at platform doors, starts again towards platform doors.)

Me: “Sir, NOT THOSE DOORS! You need to turn around and walk back out the way you came in.”

Customer: “The way I came in?” *turns to face the street entrance*

Me: *encouragingly* “Yes, sir. Those doors right ahead!”

(The customer does another 180° and starts off AGAIN for the platform.)

Me: “Sir, please wait right there. I’ll lock up my booth and come show you.”

Customer: “Sorry, thanks. It’s not very obvious.”

(I quickly lock up my booth and come around to help the customer. I lead him physically by the arm outside. I only stop him when his feet are on the ‘B’ of ‘BUS STOP’ which is painted in four-foot-high letters on the floor).

Me: “There you go, sir. Now, can you read the floor by your feet?”

Customer: *looks* “Bus stop?”

Me: Yep. So all you gotta do is wait here until one shows up!”

Customer: *incredulously* “Do the buses come to here?”

Me: “They do at that, sir.”

Customer: *looks painfully unsure* “So this is the bus stop?”

Me: “Yes indeed, sir. It is.” *checks timetable* “The next bus is to [Town] at 13:54, about two minutes from now.”

(I ended up waiting at the bus stop with him until the bus came. He was a repeat visitor for about a month, during which time I learned that his car was broken and he was using trains and buses in the interim, and that in all his 32 years he’d never once used a public bus! He worked as a teaching assistant in a nearby primary school – I fear for our nation’s children!)

(My boyfriend is studying in another state, so we’re long distance. I’ve called him on my way home from my first day at a new job. I am very punctual, while he is notoriously late for EVERYTHING.)

Me: “Well, a few of my new coworkers left half an hour early but I stayed and I got a lecture on being at work on time and staying until 5:30. I mean, yeah, they don’t know me, but as if I’m going to be late! It’s me! Now, YOU on the other hand—”

Boyfriend: “Yeah, that’s what I was going to say. I might have a bit of trouble with that.”

Me: “Please, you’d be late to your own funeral.”

(There is a pause, and then he starts laughing.)

Boyfriend: “You know what? I probably would. I can picture it now, MANY years in the future. Everyone standing around waiting for it to start, and being like, ‘where’s the body?.’  Someone says ‘the hearse is late,’ and everyone says ‘yeah, typical [Boyfriend].”

Me: “I can picture that, too.”

Boyfriend: “If you’re still around, can you say ‘typical [Boyfriend]?'”

Me: “Absolutely. And then I’ll write ‘is he here yet?’ on your tombstone.”

(We get each other.)

(There has been long term construction on the R line from Hurricane Sandy for at least four months at this point, but many people are still confused as to how they are supposed to get into Manhattan. I overhear a woman who sounded confused about which side of the track she needs and the person she is talking to doesn’t sound sure.)

Woman #1: *normal voice* “Who knows what’s going on with this train these days anyway…”

Woman #2: “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know.” *walks away*

Me: “Excuse me, where are you trying to go?”

Woman #1: *suddenly shrill and agitated* “WHAT?!”

Me:  *taken aback* “Uh. Sorry to interrupt. It’s just—”

Woman #1: “WHAT?!”

Me: “You sounded like you were asking for directions—”

Woman #1: “WHAT?! Why are you harassing me?”

Me: “Okay, sorry. You sounded lost; I just wanted to help—”

Woman #1: *stepping closer to me and getting more in my face* “What?! Why don’t you stop harassing me. I didn’t ask you!”

Me: “Okay. Stay lost, then.”

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(I’m not from the area, so I do my best to stay at the bus stop and try not to miss the bus. One day a group of people approach me as they walk down the street.)

Stranger: “Hello! Would you like some information on better living?”

Me: *thinking she means a health or alternative energy pamphlet* “Sure!”

(Instead she hands me a booklet with a list of Bible passages and their interpretations by a preacher at their church.)

Stranger: “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here, but there’s always room in our congregation for one more! You can go home and look the passages up in your Bible and come discuss them if you like!”

Me: “I’m actually Pagan, although I went to a private school where we got our own Bibles for religion classes. I haven’t read mine in years, so it’s at my parents’ house, filled with my annotations about which parts contradict each other and which ones coincide with Pagan traditions.”

Stranger: *stares at me somewhat astonished and looks to her companions for support* “Um, well, maybe you could borrow one…”

Me: “I may just look them up on the Internet. However, I’m not looking to join a congregation right now. I’m already the President and High Priestess for my university’s Pagan Student Union. I’ll bring this with me to our next meeting and we’ll discuss it instead. How about that?”

Stranger: “That… that sounds fine… Um, farewell.”

Me: *cheerily* “Thank you. May your God be with you!”

Stranger: “Er… yes…”

(She and her friends walked off in a hurry, completely confused by their encounter with me. I bore them no ill will; I was just worried they would try to convert me and make me miss my bus!)